Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (123 page)

“Okay,” he says.

“I know who this is,” Lee quietly blurts out, and Dave and I both look at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Lee has been retired for nearly two years; by law he shouldn't even be here right now. But he was a damn fine detective, still beloved by many at this department, and everyone knows that he considers Leo and Livvie his grandchildren, so no one was about to protest when he jumped up and headed out of the house with the rest of us. If he really can shed some light on whoever this asshole might be, he will remind me yet again exactly why he's always been my hero.

“You know who this is?” I repeat, looking at him skeptically.

“Well, I can't be certain but … I think so,” he says still staring at the note. Then he turns to me and says, “Kid, you remember a case right after you hired on where some scum was targeting married women? He would rape them and then leave a personal note for the husband.”

Why does this sound so fucking familiar?
“Bo Scruggs,” I nod, and he looks at me in surprise.

“Yeah, Bo Scruggs,” he frowns. “How did you remember that name?”

“Because I just got a call about him from the Portland PD. The same day that this all started with the pictures, actually.”

“What did Portland want?” Lee asks.

“Seems Scruggs got out a few weeks ago. He tracked down the woman whose testimony put him away and he raped her again. Beat her up pretty badly this time. Authorities had no idea where to start looking for him. Why do you think this is him?”

“Because it fits,” Lee says, pointing to the note. “The Scruggs case wasn't mine, but I remember seeing several of the notes. It was always something like, 'your pretty little wife begged me for it,' or 'your pretty little wife' whatever. It was a phrase he used over and over again to taunt the husband,” Lee explains. “And it makes sense, because you were just a rookie when you ran him down and collared him that night!”

I frown as I listen to Lee's theory. It does make a twisted kind of sense. But something about it still bugs me. “Lee … you remember that note we talked about before?”

“The one you showed me at the picnic? Yeah,” he nods.

“That note mentioned a game. Remember?”

He nods again. “Yeah. Game delayed, but not over.”

“And Scruggs … if that's who we're dealing with here,” Conner chimes in, “just said that you're making this game way too easy.”

I silently nod my head at him. “Yeah. I don't think that's a coincidence. But I also don't think that first note was from him.” They both frown at me, so I explain. “The notes are too different. This one is written in script, but the first one was written in block letters, all caps. And it referenced a game that was delayed. A game that was already in play. That couldn't have been Scruggs because he and I never started a game. I was never involved in that case in any way; I just happened to be the arresting officer.”

“So what are you saying, son?” Lee asks.

“You think we're dealing with a tag team here,” Conner says, and it's more of a statement than a question.

“That's exactly what I think,” I answer. “Whatever this game is, we're playing doubles here. Two against two. And right now, Samantha and I are losing.”

“Okay, so who is Scruggs' partner?” Lee asks. I cock an eyebrow at him and the three of us answer that question as one.

“Echols.”

“It all makes sense,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “Echols has a history of sending Sam freaky, so-called 'gifts.' And that phone call with the music box. We thought there was no way it could be him because he's still sitting in prison, but that doesn't mean shit if he's suddenly got a buddy on the outside.”

“One who dislikes you as much as he does,” Dave says.

“Daddy,” Livvie says tearfully, “Want Mommy.”

“Want Mommy too,” Leo pouts, as they both begin to cry. They must be so tired.

“Shh,” I say soothingly, lightly rubbing Livvie's back. “Okay, we're leaving.”

I swallow anxiously as I stare back at the note, and my arms tighten around my little girl. I turn to look Conner in the eye. “I'm taking the kids to the hospital to be checked out; I want you to call Sam to meet us there. Make sure you bag that note and have the CSU go over this room like their lives depend on it,” I tell him. “Find out what they know at the desk. Who rented this room? How long ago? And get working on a possible connection between Scruggs and Echols!”

“I'm on it, Guy,” he says quietly. “Go take care of the kids. I'll meet you at the hospital.”

Chapter Eight

Samantha

I feel like I have been staring at the clock for a thousand years. A thousand terrifying, lonely years. Josh and Lee and Dave and all the others … they ran out of here so fast. And they all looked so determined. So focused. So intent on finding Leo and Livvie and bringing them home. That was hours ago, wasn't it? Another glance at the clock tells me that it's only been about twenty minutes. I feel like I'm going mad.

There are a couple of cops still here, and I know that Josh made them stay purposely. Just in case. They're still camped out in the living room, monitoring things. Other then that though, they've all gone to the motel, and it's just a few family members left now. Lucas, Dennis and Paul Jr. are still here. We are seated around the kitchen table where mom and Olivia have sat me down for a cup of tea. A cup that I simply hold in my hands for the soothing heat, but have no intention of actually drinking. They watch me incessantly, waiting for me to fall apart again. I can't blame them, I guess. I know they're worried about me.

“What is taking so long? Why hasn't he called?” I say to no one in particular. And without even looking, I know that everyone is staring at me with expressions of pity.

“The Branch Motel isn't exactly a ten minute drive, Samantha,” Lucas explains. “It's a little ways out, on the outskirts of the city. More than likely, they haven't even gotten there yet. We'll hear something soon, Pita.”

I feel my mother's hand on my arm, lightly rubbing it in a comforting fashion. She smiles at me when I look at her, and I try to return her smile. But I simply can't. I take a deep breath and run both my hands through my hair, exhaling slowly. I can't stand the sitting anymore.

Standing up, I begin to pace around the kitchen, prowling from one corner of the spacious room to another and back again. My mind begins to wander as I pace, thinking about Joshua and what's going on right now. Are they there yet? Has he found them? Are they safe? Would they find whoever took the children? Would there be a fight or a stand off? Are my babies okay? Has anyone hurt them? Would Josh be okay?

As a million similar questions run endlessly through my mind, I pace. My thoughts propel me out of the kitchen and into the family room with the cheerful, brightly lit Christmas tree. And I suddenly hear the twins little voices singing Jingle Bells. I remember how they danced and skipped around happily when they helped us decorate the tree a week ago. Josh and I were already so sick of that damned song. They've been singing it at preschool since Thanksgiving.

Silently I wipe the tears from my cheeks as I think about how I would give just about anything to hear them sing that song right now. Turning away from the happy scene, I continue pacing. Eventually I take the stairs, wandering up to the second floor. Everything is a blur. A haze of fear, anxiety and terror as I drift from one room to the next.

I find myself in the nursery, just looking around. When we first got married and were preparing for the twins' arrival, we chose this room for the nursery because it's the closest to ours, right across the hall. And even though it's slightly smaller than the other bedrooms, it was perfect. Just the right amount of space for the two cribs and changing tables. We made it work. Just like when we replaced the cribs with the two beds. Soon, it'll be time to move the beds into their new rooms, so that we can bring a crib back into this one for the baby. That'll be a fun challenge. Getting Leo and Livvie used to sleeping in their own rooms. I wonder if they'll fight it? If they'll be scared being in a room alone? Have they been scared the last eleven hours? Wondering where Mommy and Daddy are?

I wipe more tears as I reach out and pick up Livvie's ballerina teddy bear. She was so excited to show this to me when she and Josh got home from the mall last Saturday. She had insisted on wearing her blue princess dress on their daddy date that day, and she chose a blue tutu for the bear to match. The thought makes me smile through my tears.

Turning, I walk over to Leo's car-shaped bed and sit down. Still holding the teddy bear in one hand, I pick up Leo's stuffed police cruiser. He loves this thing. When he's home, he carries it around with him most of the time, like a security blanket. He sleeps with it. I'm surprised he doesn't try to take it everywhere he goes. He probably wishes that he had it with him now.

Out of nowhere, a tortured sob escapes my lips and I curl up on Leo's bed as the tears overtake me. I don't know how long I lay here crying, but I feel many arms and hands gently lifting me up. A pair of arms encircles me as another set of hands rubs my back and gently moves the hair from my face. And I cry. Weeping for my babies. Where are they? I want them home.

I cry for what feels like forever. And when I finally calm down, I slowly realize that the arms holding me are my mother's, and the gentle hands rubbing my back belong to my mother-in-law. They must have followed me up here as I paced through the house. How long were they lurking in the hallway, watching me break down? Their constant hovering is driving me just as crazy as the not knowing.

Pulling myself together, I stand up and walk over to one of the dressers to retrieve a tissue from the box. I dab at my eyes still clutching Livvie's teddy bear and Leo's stuffed car. Somehow it's the closest I have to actually holding my babies in my arms right now.

“Sweetheart, why don't you go to your room and lie down?” my mother suggests. “It may be a while before we have any word. You should rest.”

“No. I don't want to lie down.”

“I think Lois is right, Samantha,” Olivia chimes in. “It might do you some good to just take a few minutes and recharge.”

“I don't want to lie down,” I repeat, looking at them pointedly. I shake my head slightly as I sigh. “Don't you understand that I can't?”

“Of course, darling,” mom says. “But if you won't lie down, at least sit. Put your feet up?”

I can't take it. “Stop! Just stop,” I yell. “I don't want to lie down, I don't want to put my feet up! I don't want to rest, and I don't want a cup of tea! I want my babies back. I want to wake up from this nightmare and have my babies in this room, sleeping safely. That's all I want! And I need for you …”

The pain is so searing that it stops my diatribe mid-sentence, and I let out a scream as I double over, clutching my belly.

“Samantha!”

Both moms rush toward me and are at my side in an instant. Dropping the bear and the car, I clutch at mom and Olivia's hands as they attempt to support me. The pain comes again, and it drops me to my knees.

“Olivia, call an ambulance,” Mom yells.

Chapter Nine

Joshua

“Dave! Did you get Sam?” I ask as Conner comes striding into the emergency room cubicle. I'm seated on a stool holding both twins, one on each knee, as we wait for the doctor to come look them over. Livvie is sleeping, and Leo looks close. I expected Samantha to beat us here. But Lee and I have been sitting in this cubicle with the twins for about fifteen minutes now, and she's still not here.

“Uh, actually Guy …”

“You didn't forget to call her, did you?”

“No. I didn't forget,” he says quietly, and I get the feeling he's hesitating.

“Conner?”

“I didn't get a hold of Sam, Guy. But, her brother answered her phone.”

“Okay. Is she on her way?” I ask, dreading his answer for some reason.

“She's not on her way, Guy. She's already here,” he says nervously. “In a cubicle down the hall.”

I feel all the color drain from my face at his words, and a small frisson of fear runs through me.
Oh, God.

“Give 'em to me,” Lee says moving toward me. I stand awkwardly, completely in a daze as I gently hand over the twins. “Come on. Come to Grandpa.”

“No, want Daddy,” Leo whines as I hand him over.

“It's okay, buddy. Daddy will be right back,” I tell him. “You stay with Grandpa.” I turn toward Conner and look him in the eye. “Where is she?”

“Cubicle four.”

I rush from the room and sprint down the hospital corridor as my mind wonders frantically about Samantha.
What is she doing here? Is she alright? Is it the baby?

I see Lucas standing outside a cubicle with the curtain drawn, phone up to his ear. He looks up when he sees me rushing toward him, but I don't slow down. I move past him, reaching around the curtain and stepping behind it. My eyes take in the scene, barely grasping the specifics. I see Sam lying on a bed, looking pale and fragile. She has an IV hooked up, and all the usual monitors keeping a record of her heart rate and blood pressure. Mom and Lois are standing nearby, and Dr. Lake is sitting on a stool, writing in a chart. And I hear the now familiar swishing sound of our baby's heartbeat. Sam looks up when I enter the space.

“Where are they?” she asks frantically. “Lucas said you found them! Why aren't they with you?”

“Yes, we found them,” I assure her as I sit down on the side of her bed, gently taking her by the shoulders and pushing her back against the pillows. “We found them. Relax, baby.”

“Where are they? Why aren't they with you?” she practically screams.

“Shh, Sam … they're okay.”

She is completely distraught, and immediately Dr. Lake is at our sides with an admonishing glare. “Samantha, you absolutely must calm down,” she says soothingly, placing her hand on Sam's belly. “I understand what you're going through. But the twins are safe now, and this little guy really needs for you to pull it together.”

She gives Samantha a stern look and then glances to the fetal monitor. And I'm suddenly flooded with feelings of fear and guilt. So much guilt. My mind briefly recalls Sam's words from a couple of hours ago about this being all her fault, but I know that it's mine.